Flesh N' Blood
by Jade Gryphon
Summary: Occuring two years after the movie, Whipstaff is put on the chopping block, supposedly by the mayor's office. With no evidence of ownership, the Harveys and the resident ghosts must act quick, or lose their home forever.


Flesh N' Blood

by

Jade Gryphon

_**The Lawyer Shutter-Upper, aka the Dreaded Disclaimer: **_

_Casper and all related characters and titles are copyright Amblin/Universal and Harvey Comics. I do not intend to claim ownership of them, nor am I making a profit from this fanfic. I do this for fun, PEOPLE! All other characters are copyright me, unless stated otherwise._

**-CHAPTER ONE-**

"YAHAHAHAHA!!!!"

Manical laughter ripped through the crisp, evening autumn air of Maine, followed by the sound

of genuinely terrified Trick-or-Treaters screaming. Sure enough, A trove of them sped down the street,

running away from an old, yet beatifully constructed mansion. Three ethereal shapes followed the kids closely,

stopping at the entrance to the gates. The skinny one, Stretch, laughed after the spooked children.

"That'll teach you fleshy, candy snitchin' nuisances ta come tresspassin' on our property!" He said, crossing his arms.

"Yeah! The next time ya come to complain about there bein' no candy, -I'M- gonna make a STINK of my own!!",

Stinkie, the short, buck-toothed one chimed in, shaking his fist after the kids.

Fatso, the enormously fat ghost, held out an empty egg carton, shaking it over his mouth. He frowns, tossed it behind his shoulder, and called out, as well.

"And next time, bring more eggs!!"

Stretch inhaled, then exhaled, grinning widely.

"I tell ya boys, I don't know what I'd do on Halloween with out ya's."

Stinkie shrugged. "Ya'd probably do the same thing with out us," he replied flatly.

"Yanno...yer probably right. But hey, it'd be less of a fufillin' night!" Stretch said, after giving it some thought.

Just then Casper flew up, holding a bag of candy.

"Guys, guys, wait! I found the cand--"He called out, then realizing they had gone,

"Hey...where'd the Trick-or-Treaters go?"

"Eh...they had a meetin' with the business end of my HALITOSIS!" Stinkie said,

exhaling a rancid, green breath onto the little, blue eyed, round headed ghost, The trio laughing afterward.

Stretch looked at his nephew. "Hey Bulbhead, I thought you were out Trick-or-Treatin' with that fleshie?"

"Yeah, you were supposed to be going with her, not out here pesterin' us while we're workin'!" Stinkie added.

Casper shrugged. "She's too old for Trick-or-Treating."

"Well accordin' ta history, so are you!" Stretch retorted annoyedly.

Casper sighed. "It's more than that, though...she had a party to go to with Vic."

Stretch blinked, confused.

"Ya mean that dipwad Blood Balloon who we spooked along with that Blonde Bone Bag two years ago?"

"Uh huh."

"See...THAT is what I don't get about fleshies. No matter how bad they get hurt, dey come crawlin' back to each other. It's sickening!"

Casper bit his lip, frowning slightly. "Um, Uncle Stretch, I think it's different when you love someone."

Stretch sneered distastefully.

"Yeah? Well, its a good thing I don't..." He shot, coldly.

Fatso and Stinkie looked at each other, then their older brother.

"Hey...ya love us, don't ya?" Fatso said curiously.

"Platonically, you dimbulb...dat don't count!" He scowled at them.

"Oh." Fatso replied.

The skinny ghost grumbled irritatedly, then turned to Casper, angry.

"Now look what you've done, Short Sheet, ya've ruined our night of terrorizin'! Geh...let's get goin' back to da house, boys. maybe there's some stupid fleshie horror flicks on tv er somethin'."

His siblings looked at each other once more.

"Eh, if it's all da same with you, bro, we're gonna go off and do some more scarin' before the fleshies leave the streets," Stinkie said.

"Fine, you go do that then..." He snapped irrately, defeated, hovering off towards Whipstaff.

Stinkie and Fatso shrugged at one another. What was HIS problem?

As Stretch approached the house, he noticed a man, nailing something on the door. He quietly hid behind a post, watching the human.

"What the hell is that fleshie doin'?" Stretch whispered to himself.

The man gets through nailing, and leaves, getting into his truck driving off. Stretch is able to make out the words on the side of the vehicle door: Friendship Friendly Realtors.

As soon as the car drove off, Stretch flew out from his hiding place, and grabbed the piece of paper the human had nailed to the door of the mansion.

Muttering, he read it partially outloud, partially to himself.

_"Dear current resident...regret to inform CLAIM MADE...NO LEGAL OWNER...MOVE IMMEDIATELY WITHIN 30 DAYS...DEMOLISHED?!"_

He looked up from the letter, furious. "...what chowderhead is responsible fer dis crap?!"


End file.
